Sunday was a beautiful day, and we didn't want to waste it. So we hopped in the car and followed very helpful directions from local photographer Gerald Berliner (ok, I was a little enthusiastic and encouraged Jim to take a right turn WAYYY before we should have, but we turned around and were soon back on the right track). It's on 209, past Wurtsboro, Summitville, and Philipsport, and slightly into Spring Glen.
Before long, we made our way through the Spring Glen campgrounds and saw the footbridge that marked the trailhead. We got out, posed for a picture... and started heading the wrong way. The sound of rushing water and a peek through the trees at an icy rock face led Jim to say, "It looks like the falls are THAT way." Um, yeah, I was just trying to get more steps in?
The trail is easy: if it's a quarter-mile up and back (to the base of the falls), that's overstating it. A little uphill, a little rocky, some roots you have to watch out for, but really, it's a short hop to a huge payoff.
We were lucky to have had the time together to make the trip, and we were awestruck by its beauty.
It's a great place to linger. The falls are breathtaking; it's easy to see how they got their name, with the water sluicing down milky-white. The ice on the sides of the rock face just enhanced the effect. In the warmer months, we'll come back and duck behind the falls, where old rail tracks mark an old lead mine...
Tommy - against my warnings NOT to - tossed a big rock onto the ice encasing the fallen tree at the mouth of the mine. To his surprise, "it didn't even make a dent!"
The younger half of our troupe climbed up the side of the hill to try and make it to the top of the falls. They didn't get close enough - maybe next time - but there is a yellow-blazed trail that appears to eventually lead to the top.
We thought our exploring was done after we got into our cars, but we were wrong. Ellen, Joaquim, and Tommy continued down the campground road and found that it dead-ended at an old canal lock. A big white dog at the end of a nearby driveway made us too leery to get out and get a closer look at the lock (Freckles often finds herself at the losing end of strange-dog confrontations), but what we saw was really cool.
Somewhere around here is a "snubbing post," where mules and horses would be tied up while they waited to pull canal boats through the locks. My friend Sherry used to vacation in Spring Glen, and her family bought a home there in 1970. She has fond memories of the falls:
"We used to go for a 'hike to Buttermilk Falls,'" Sherry said. "Never being much of an athlete, I haven't been there in years. When we bought our house in 1970, my sister Debbie would bike over there. We'd go as kids during the summer when it wasn't a day for the pool. Back then the owner of the land came out with a shotgun and chased us away. My cousin's grandfather, Sam Baumwoll, who owned the colony where we stayed after our the highway cut through my grandfather's property around '62, drove over to the owner's house and told him to let us hike there. If he was sober, we were ok. If not, it was anybody's guess. When I was really young, before Debbie was born, I have pictures of us there. We would go to cool off or swim in the aqueduct part of the canal. It's in the woods, no or very little sun, so the water was always cold. When it's warm and you can walk under the falls, the old tracks inside were quite visible. The top of the falls might still be reached off the old railroad tracks - another place we used to climb to. I have 2 spikes and one huge nail. And I love that snubbing post. Not many around."
So if you are local to the Wurtsboro/Summitville/Philipsport/Spring Glen area, or if you aren't local but don't mind a bit of a drive, go and experience Buttermilk Falls. It truly is worth the trip.
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